


Gehenna

by FireEye



Category: Saints Row
Genre: F/M, Wingfic, trope bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gat out of Hell.  Hypothetical.  Because Reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gehenna

She crept up on the outside, where he couldn’t see her. But he could _feel_ her. Her warmth, her shallow breath – awe and reverence, shame and jealously that rolled off her like brimstone. Unthinking, she raised her hand, tracing her fingers gently along the feathers. The caress sent a shiver down his spine.

With an well-timed flex of the wing, he pinned her to the wall behind him. Startled, she struggled and pushed back with all her might, unable to break free.

And then stopped.

“Oh,” she cooed in surprise. “It’s _soft._ ”

Pulling the wing back towards him, Johnny arched it against her, shoving her – harder than he meant to – and she stumbled backward.

If she hurt, she didn’t blame him. Why the fuck not was anyone’s guess. Curling the wings inward around him, he ignored her.

Faith refused to take the hint.

This time, she didn’t touch the feathers – didn’t touch _him_. Only just barely; instead, she skirted the outside of the barrier he’d made. But just because she wasn’t going away didn’t mean he had to make it easy on her.

Dropping to her knees, Faith crawled _under_ the wings. The smoldering tips of the feathers nearest the bottom brushed across her back, leaving soot in her hair and along her immaculate white shirt, and a trail of flushed skin across her bare shoulders. Kneeling in front of him, she combed her hair back out of her eyes, and didn’t seem to notice.

She could have hated him.

For a lot of things, really.

But she smoothed her palms over her knees to still the tremor in her hands, eyes downcast. He tried not to look at her, to acknowledge she even _existed_ , but there wasn’t much else to look at; he wound up looking at his hands.

For an instant, it felt like they had been here before.

Faith inched forward, until her arm brushed against his leg – that bright spark in her that had never quite died edging her on. She folded her arms across his lap, resting her cheek on his knee. The arcane glow in her eyes dimmed as they drifted half-closed.

The corruption had affected all of them differently.

The wings – _his wings_ – curled tighter around them, blocking out everything else. For a moment, they were somewhere else – smiling, laughing, curled around each other so tightly it was impossible to breathe – somewhere he couldn’t pin down and remember. Didn’t _dare_.

“Do you hate me?” Faith asked, “For what I did?”

For a moment, it wasn’t the heavy length of chain that kept him weighed down.

Johnny combed his fingers through her hair, and his fingernails – claws, now, really – scraped against her scalp. Conflicted between anguish and desire, Faith raised her head, and the curve of her cheek came to rest in the palm of his hand. Her fingers pressed against his, craving the touch.

He knew her, inside and out.

“No.”

And if he’d gotten to her sooner, it wouldn’t have ended... well... _like this_.

**Author's Note:**

> i dunno. it got sad. it wasn't meant to be sad. whoops. at the very least, take solace: the game itself will no doubt be less sad than this.


End file.
